When I arrive
At a place of stand by
I can only imagine
In a dreamed state
How it really feels to be alive
Not realizing who knows
And what they know for
Stepping in fatigued
From the recipe of discovering things
Being the first every second
How can it be the same on the minute
When the silent scene hits me and I sleep
Life is no longer turbulent
I'm assured to end up in the convection
of never being the same after recluding
the new things I dreamed would
come upon through age & demitry.